


When Want Becomes Need

by Kurohitenshi



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s5e13, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Post Season/Series 05, Reincarnation, Season/Series 01, Self-Lubrication, Slash, Spanking, Spoilers, time skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 19:30:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurohitenshi/pseuds/Kurohitenshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Growing up, Arthur has watched as some of the older knights gave birthday spankings to the younger squires until they became of age. He'd been amused but thought that he'd never really participate in such a silly tradition - that is, until he meets his new bratty and pushy young manservant Merlin. Gods, he'd never wanted to spank someone so damn much. And enjoy it in such a perverse way too. Not that Merlin should know about that bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Want Becomes Need

**Author's Note:**

> I had fun writing this - my first ever Merlin fic posted but not the first one I wrote. If you squint, there's some porny language used here that are actual lines from the very slashy show. Enjoy.
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters are the property of BBC. This is merely a work of fiction.

Arthur was seven years old when he first took note of this strange tradition. He’d watched boys twice his age bent over the meaty thighs of older knights, their breeches pulled down to their knees. For each summer that they’d been alive, a large hand would smack down against their bare bottoms, hard enough to redden it. Uther and Arthur had laughed about it together whenever they saw it happen, like an old private joke.

Of course, Arthur had never been a part of it. There was an unwritten rule that frivolity like that was not for the dignified royalty. And he’d never really had much interest in public birthday spankings to young boys.

That is - until he met Merlin.

***

Arthur had never known anyone who was more bratty or pushy like Merlin. The boy kept driving him insane with snide little comments or retorts that anyone with half a mind would never ever dare to say to someone of noble birth, never mind their master and future king. It was infuriating but refreshing and sometimes, the lines were blurred so much that they were almost friends.

So when Arthur learned from Gaius that Merlin was about to turn sixteen, he’d kept an eye out, trying to be extra sensitive to the boy’s latest grievous offences.

***

Because it was the first time that he was doing this sort of thing, Arthur chose his chambers as their location. As Merlin was prattling on about some sort of festival that he wanted to go to while he wiped down the surface of his table, Arthur swallowed thickly as he stalked closer behind him.

Since Merlin was already bent over, all Arthur had to do was press the heel of a hand against the younger boy’s back.

“Arthur?” Merlin said, his back stiffening as he looked back to stare at him from beneath his lashes. “What are you...?”

“I believe you’ve reached your sixteenth year today, have you not?” Arthur asked, his voice bossy despite the tiny bit of hesitation that he felt inside.

“Oh – uh?” Merlin’s eyes widened a little bit when realization dawned. “Arthur, you don’t mean to...do you?”

At this, Arthur felt himself smirking. “Yes, Merlin. Trousers down. Now.”

“But!”

“Are you not man enough to take this? Boys younger than you take this every year without complaint.”

“I don’t see you doing it!”

Arthur shook his head, laughing a little. “I’m of age, Merlin. Now do as I said. Unless you want this to happen in front of the square – while you’re in the stocks perhaps?”

“No way!”

“Good. Then be a good lad and do as you’re told.”

Sighing theatrically, Merlin rolled his eyes, his insolence apparent in every movement. Arthur pulled his hand away so Merlin could unlace his breeches and push them down to his knees. When Merlin draped himself over the table once more, face buried in his arms and his arse up in the air, Arthur felt his smirk disappearing.

The pert little bottom was small but unmarked and perfect, hairless and rounded. Merlin’s legs were slightly open so he could see the folds of his ball sack hanging. He could also see the shadow – the cleft, Merlin’s hole. If Arthur could just part Merlin’s arse, he would be able to see it – how pink it was and how tightly furled. And if Arthur could just slip a slick finger inside, he would be able to feel how tight and how hot...

Arthur’s heart hammered in his chest in panic as he felt a nervous lump in his throat. A shiver ran along his spine as blood rushed to his cock. This was the last thing he had planned to happen.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” Merlin asked, his voice muffled against his arms. He wiggled his arse impertinently. “See something you like, sire?”

This broke the spell. Arthur let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and stepped closer. He pressed one hand on the small of Merlin’s back, feeling the younger boy shake just a little bit, then brought his hand down on the perfect little arse in a loud smack.

“One!” Merlin said, his voice full of amusement. “Is that the best you can do, Arthur?”

Arthur gritted his teeth in annoyance and laid down another spank, harder this time.

“Two! Really though, I’m not fragile. I can take it like a man.”

He could already see Merlin’s arse reddening but the boy seemed to know just how to push his buttons. So, for the next hits, he tried not to control himself – five, six, seven, until he paused once he heard a soft sob.

Before he could ask if Merlin was okay, he realized that Merlin was not so much as sobbing, but was the little brat moaning?

“Fucking get on with it, sire!”

Arthur’s eyes widened at the curse, feeling almost indignant. How dare…was Merlin trying to get a rise out of him?

“Eight!” Merlin cried out as another smack hit him, writhing his hips helplessly against the table.

And that’s when Arthur realized it.

“Why, you little wench...” he couldn’t help but say. “You *really* want your bottom sore, don’t you?”

A hungry little whine escaped Merlin before the length of his back trembled.

“Arthur,” Merlin half-begged, half-whispered.

Arthur couldn’t help it – he really couldn’t. With one hand, he touched Merlin’s red bottom to feel the heat from it. It felt as if it was burning. He wished he could do more. It was so tempting. It was so infuriating! Before he could do anything else he might regret, Arthur let himself lose control in the spanking instead and just gives it his all: thinks about all the times that Merlin had drove him mad, about how much Merlin deserved this punishment, about how it was making Merlin beautiful like this – panting and shamelessly wanton against the table.

“Fourteen! Fif - fifteen! Six- six- sixteen!”

And there it was, that was the end of that and Arthur’s just sorry that Merlin was still such a young boy that he couldn’t spank him anymore.

In a low voice, Arthur couldn’t help but ask, “You enjoyed that, did you?”

Merlin didn’t answer. Instead, he pushed himself off from the table and turned around, baring his stiff cock to Arthur’s eyes. It was flushed and leaking and needing release. His own face was red, the fringe of his hair sticking to his forehead. His eyes looked first at Arthur then down at the swollen erection tenting against his breeches. Merlin licked his lips before looking back up at his eyes.

There was challenge in the way that Merlin stared at him, as he toed off his boots and breeches without difficulty. Merlin lay back on the table, pulling his thighs against his chest and parting his legs without shame. Arthur hungrily devoured the sight of the clenched hole that was finally revealed to him, noting with interest that it was wet and leaking, much like the slit of his cock. It was almost as if it was like a cunt in its wetness (did he prepare himself before this?) – or as if Merlin had a magical arse that got wet when he got excited...which was an absurd thought.

“As noble as your intentions were,” Merlin said in a low voice, parting his legs even wider and clenching his hole excitedly. “I really prefer a birthday fuck. If you don’t mind, sire.”

It was all the invitation Arthur needed. In less than two seconds, his breeches were undone and his cock was out, its tip immediately trying to force its way into the entrance to Merlin’s body. He knew he should prepare Merlin but the wetness...it seemed as if Merlin’s body was made for this – made for *him*.

Sensing his hesitation, Merlin stared up into his eyes as his legs wrapped around his waist tightly. Arthur only saw reverence and want there, as well as something else that he wasn’t ready to define.

“Please, Arthur.”

And so, wrapping his hands around Merlin’s hips, he finally thrust his engorged cock forward into the slick and choking clench and claimed what was rightfully his, wrenching a breathy moan from the boy beneath him. It was unbelievably tight and so very hot and Arthur could barely restrain himself –

“Move!”

Pushy, bratty little –

But Arthur moved, slipping his cock in and out the tiny hole, moving his hips this way and that and causing the birthday boy to gasp out at all the new sensations. Arthur fucked Merlin hard – like he’d never fucked anyone else. He wanted to claim Merlin – he wanted it to be unforgettable. He wanted no one else to know this feeling – this lordship over Merlin, this *honor* of being inside this idiotic, prissy, pushy, and insolent but very special boy.

“Faster,” Merlin breathed out against the side of his neck. “Go faster.”

And Arthur did. He fucked faster, harder, and reached between them to stroke Merlin’s cock in time with his thrusts, making the younger boy shake and gasp brokenly as *finally* jets of white spills forth and hits his neck and chest and nipples. And Arthur stares – wishes he could taste it, wishes he could lick those pink nubs and drive Merlin even more insane.

It takes a little bit longer for him and he almost doesn’t want it to end as he watched the obscene splay of Merlin’s parted legs – how his fat cock is splitting Merlin apart as it plunges in and out of the tiny wet hole. It really does look obscene and he loves it, loves this - he's never really imagined this but now he's addicted and wants this for as long as he could have it.

But it is the sight of Merlin’s eyes watching him, the pleased smile upon his face that undoes him. It’s beautiful and proper and it felt oddly like it belongs only to Arthur.

So Arthur gasped as Merlin clenched his hole against him. He felt himself losing control and releasing his seed inside the boy even as he’s still thrusting shallowly.

“Merlin,” he couldn’t help but mumble, still staring at the blue eyes that were looking so openly fond at him that a part of his heart clenches in some unknown emotion.

And then Merlin’s pulling him down and their lips press together in something that felt way too intimate but so very right as well. Arthur could feel the hunger there as their tongues slide together in a dirty kiss and they kiss and kiss and kiss until one of them had to break away with a sharp gasp, needing air.

Arthur braced his hands on the table, one on each side of Merlin’s head.

Merlin’s still smiling but there’s a dark blush across his cheeks and he seemed embarrassed. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

Arthur huffed then chuckled before finally pulling his softening cock from Merlin’s body. He shook his head but smiled as well.

“I forgive you for that indiscretion.” he said, his tone teasing. “Just because it’s your birthday.”

“Just because of that?” Merlin asked, a brow raising, his smile becoming a playful grin.

“Hmm, if you’re insolent again, even if it’s not your birthday, I’ll have to continue with correcting you.”

“That’s going to be hard,” Merlin said with a shrug, the effect somehow ruined as Arthur watched come dribble outside his hole because his legs were still shamelessly parted. “You know I never do as I’m told.”

“Good.” Arthur said, feeling himself becoming hard once again as if he was the adolescent one. And when he was stiff and aching once more, it was easy enough to press forward until he was buried to the hilt, making Merlin gasp and grin happily up at him.

And then, knowing that he wouldn't be able to bear giving up Merlin to anyone else now that he'd had him, he couldn't help but say, “You won't let anyone else touch you like this.”

Even though it sounded like a command and Merlin was usually insolent - 

At this request, Merlin only smiled up at him, a sincere smile that crinkled the sides of his eyes. "Only for you, Arthur."

***

Epilogue:

More than a thousand years later, after Arthur comes back to life, amidst all the new things that he learns and laments, the one thing that they happily resume is Merlin's birthday tradition. In fact, the first opportunity they get, Merlin bares his bottom eagerly even though it wasn't even his birthday.

"Six-hundred and seventy-eight!" Merlin gasped, visibly shaking against the bed.

Arthur learns quickly about how to handle this new Merlin - new to him anyway. This Merlin was a little bit more dejected and defeated but a lot more hungry. Anything that Arthur could dish out, Merlin was more than happy to receive. Because Merlin had lived for so long, the smacks against his bottom had to be spanned out for days.

Presently, his wet hole was stretched tight around a vibrating plug.

"You're so wet," Arthur whispered against the shell of Merlin's ear. "Your magic makes you wet huh? It always has. Lovely little arse. Two more and then you can come for me, yeah?"

And as commanded, after two loud smacks, Merlin does. He comes apart with a wet cry, his come staining the sheets underneath him as his knees finally buckle. He comes undone mentally as well, burying his face into the pillow, another secret begging to be released from his lips.

Because of the burden of the centuries when Arthur had been gone, this tradition of theirs had gained a whole new meaning to them. The first fourteen smacks were usually fun and light, representing the first innocent years of Merlin's life when he hadn't even known Arthur. From the fifteenth to the twenty-fifth were the most meaningful because it represented the ten years that they'd shared together in Camelot thousands of years ago. The twenty-sixth was perhaps the most brutal because that's the start of when their lives were ripped apart from each other by destiny.

From then on until the end, Merlin dictated the tone - slow for the years when there was only waiting and he had felt nothing but hollowness inside. And then there were the tough years that were full of war when he'd had his heart set out on Arthur's return and got heartbroken over and over again because no matter how brutal the wars were, he never got him back. He asked for roughness then, begging to be bruised. Sometimes, he confessed to letting other men ravage him, sometimes he let a pack of them destroy him at the same time because he wanted to feel torn up physically, to reflect what he felt on the inside. Sometimes, he wanted to be beaten so bad until he lost consciousness because those were the years when all he wanted was to die but nothing could ever kill him because of his immortality.

***

They're driving through Australia's Pacific Coast, catching the golden light of a sunset. Arthur's at the wheel of a sleek black Aston Martin rental, but once in awhile, he steals concerned glances at Merlin in the passenger seat.

Merlin's quiet although his face is almost serene, as if he's let something go - just a little bit. It makes Arthur wonder about all the changes that Merlin has gone through.

Merlin looks almost similar to the day he arrived in Camelot. He probably looks younger now that he's devoid of the problems of the past. There's no prophecy these days and Arthur's no longer a King with thousands of enemies willing to kill him.

Sitting there, with his hands folded on his lap, he looks almost tiny. He was too thin and the jeans he favours are the skinny ones that show off his slimness. He wears black high-top Converse sneakers like a boy as well as a simple black shirt and a red hoodie. His messy black hair is long enough that his fringe keeps falling to his eyes, as if he prefers to hide them from the world. It was almost as if he was sixteen again. And so, looking at Merlin now, it was hard to imagine that it's only been a few days since his birthday and underneath his clothes were a litany of the bruises he'd begged for.

Arthur stops the car at the side of the road when he sees that there's a vista point with a parking lot. When he's parked the car, Merlin looks up at him in surprise then smiles. Arthur sees the bright light of the sunset reflecting in his eyes then smiles back.

"I'm never going to stop needing you," Merlin confesses, apology in his blue eyes. "So I hope you won't get sick of me just yet."

"Idiot," Arthur responds, for lack of a better thing to say.

Instead, he steps outside and gestures for Merlin to do the same. When they're standing side by side in front of the car, their shoulders are touching, their knuckles brushing against each other.

"Don't say things like that." Arthur half-pleads, half-commands, truly unable to say anything that could make it all better. Even now, it was hard to express himself outside of physical gestures. And so instead, he just does what he's good at.

He pulls Merlin to him so they're standing chest to chest. Wrapping an arm around his waist, he pushes Merlin's head down so that his face is buried on Arthur's shoulder. It's the best thing he could do.

In turn, Merlin lets out a breath because he understood Arthur better than Arthur understood himself sometimes. And they embrace for a long time as the sun sets beautifully in front of them against the Pacific coastline, forgotten and ignored.

And in the twilight of the evening, Merlin whispers against his shoulder - something he never failed to tell Arthur every day.

"Thank you for coming back to me, Arthur."


End file.
